


Scorched

by syriala



Series: Inktober for Writers 2018 [19]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fire-related trauma, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 10:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16345052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syriala/pseuds/syriala
Summary: A djinn. A goddamn djinn, made up of fire. It might be smokeless fire, but it was still fire and Scott had the brilliant idea to send in Peter first.





	Scorched

Stiles was rushing home, driving faster than he probably should, given the state his jeep was normally in, but after what Scott had told him, he couldn’t slow down.

A djinn. A goddamn djinn, made up of fire. It might be smokeless fire, but it was still fire and Scott had the brilliant idea to send in Peter first.

Stiles knew that Scott didn’t care about Peter, he had made that clear time and time again after all, but this was downright cruel. Peter wasn’t their best fighter, wasn’t the strongest or fastest since he never really healed from his resurrection, and there was never a reason to send him in first. But especially not when the monster of the week was entirely made up of flames.

Stiles just hoped that Peter had come to him instead of going home, because Peter’s apartment was on the other side of town and it would take Stiles at least another twenty minutes to get there.

“I’m never going out of town again,” Stiles muttered under his breath, as he pressed down on the gas pedal, and he hoped that no one on patrol would see him. If he got stopped by the police right now he would scream.

He needed to get to Peter.

When Stiles finally arrived at his house, he haphazardly parked the jeep in the drive way, not even taking the time to lock it up after he slammed the door shot. He sprinted up the stairs and almost slammed against the closed door when he wasn’t quick enough to get the key into the lock.

Stiles had enough sense to close the front door behind him, but once that was done he was taking the stairs up to his bedroom two, three at a time. He wanted nothing more than to rush into his room, but if Peter was in there, he would be in bad shape and Stiles didn’t want to scare him unnecessarily.

So he stopped in front of his door, took one and then two deep breaths before he carefully opened the door, creeping in. He scanned the room and sighed in relief when he saw the human shaped lump under his covers.

The air in the room was horrible, smelling like something had burned and even though Stiles wanted nothing more than to walk over to the bed and curl protectively around Peter, he walked over to the window first, opening it in hopes of getting the horrible smell out of his room.

After that he turned towards the bed.

“Peter,” he softly said, letting the wolf know that he was there, because he wasn’t sure just how aware the other man was right now.

The lump under the blanket shuddered and Stiles stepped closer, gently resting a hand on top of the cover.

“Hey, my wolf,” Stiles muttered and the body under his hand expanded once with a deep breath before Peter poked his head out of the blankets.

He looked horrible, white as a sheet, with black smudges on his face, and his eyes red-rimmed, either from the smoke or crying. Stiles didn’t know, and he wasn’t going to ask.

“Are you hurt?” Stiles asked, because he needed to know if Peter was physically okay.

He could deal with the aftermath of trauma, but Stiles really didn’t want to even imagine what state Peter would be in if he was burned during the fight against the djinn.

“Clothes got scorched,” Peter rasped out, voice so rough Stiles could barely understand him.

“And you?” Stiles carefully asked, but Peter shook his head once, before he buried his face in Stiles’ pillow, shuddering under Stiles’ hand.

“Alright,” Stiles said, and then kicked off his shoes before he slid into bed, wrapping himself around Peter.

Peter was still curled up small and shaking, and Stiles just tried to cover enough of Peter’s body with his own. It was important now that Peter knew that his pack was still there, that he wasn’t abandoned in a hospital again and that he didn’t lose those he loved.

It was just lucky that Stiles was every single one of these things to Peter, _love, mate, family, pack_ , so that he didn’t have to get someone else to get in on their cuddle.

“It was so hot,” Peter choked out, and Stiles was reasonably sure that the red-rimmed eyes weren’t from smoke, but he didn’t say anything about that and just kept holding Peter.

“Do you want to take a shower? Get rid of the smell, too?” Stiles asked and smoothed his hand over Peter’s hair and neck in an attempt to scent mark him.

“Later,” Peter said, burrowing closer to Stiles, clinging to him in a desperate attempt to not feel so alone.

Stiles heart was breaking for him, because Peter should never have to go through something like this ever again. Scott took care to never send Derek into a fight when fire was involved, but he never thought about Peter when things like that happened and Stiles was so damn tired of it.

He would have to have a stern talk with Scott and if he didn’t change, Peter and Stiles were pack after all. They didn’t _need_ Scott.

But right now Peter needed him present, needed to be reminded that he and Stiles were both fine, and so Stiles just hugged Peter tighter and started to ramble about his short trip. He wasn’t deterred by Peter’s sobbing because he knew that these were tears of relief right now.

Relief that Peter wasn’t trapped in his own body again, that he didn’t have to experience a broken pack bond again.

And so Stiles just kept holding him, kept talking until his voice was scratchy, at which point he switched over to humming. He was sure Peter was asleep by now, but Stiles didn’t stop. He would always take care of his wolf.


End file.
